So Darkness I Became
by ForTheWretched
Summary: "I see him everywhere. In mirrors, reflected in my own eyes. Glimpses of him in the streets on the rare occasions I got out; the wind his breath on the back of my neck. I'm going insane" OOPS I WROTE AN OC. Honestly I had an idea and ran with it...and this is what happened. Loki/OC
1. Chapter 1

Agent Barton tells me, in that odd half-life of the hospital, that he doesn't remember a thing. That the last thing he can recall is his own bow poised and ready to demolish the threat, and then nothing but the light. I wish I had been granted that luxury. To me, every moment is painfully clear. The memories hide just behind my eyelids, lying in wait to catch me off guard and chill me to my bones. The nights are the worst. During the day I can distract myself, fool myself and everyone around me that I am healing, adjusting back to life as it was. But as soon as I lay alone in the darkness, I see his eyes. I feel his hands on me. I feel violated, open and vulnerable. Haunted.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start at the beginning shall we? I know, I know, exposition. It's a necessary evil. I promise it'll pay off in the end, so stick it out.

Right.

So.

Everything you need to know about my humble beginnings, you can garner from a few basic facts. My mother, Cherlyn "Cherie" Tyler, was a twenty two year old flight attendant. My father was, well himself. You seem like a smart bunch, so I'll let you figure out the nature of their first meeting. Their little foray into airplane romance left here with me and him with a hefty child support payment. After the paternity suit, of course. I don't think my dad had ever even lain eyes on me before the enterprising Ms. Tyler decided that I was cramping her style, and figured it was time to dump me on my father's posh doorstep; right into the arms of his then brand new assistant, Pepper.

God I wish I could have been there for that phone call.

My earliest memories are compiled of various nannies and excessively expensive toys. Pepper was a constant as well and, if we're being honest here, she was and still is the only mother figure in my life. As for my dad…well, he tried, but this was not a man prepared to raise a child. So when I was school aged, I was shipped off to the most prestigious of boarding schools to ensure that I returned a well rounded and educated member of society.

It kind of worked.

I of course went through the obligatory "My dad is super famous but you don't know my life so I'm going to act out" phase; dating musicians, actors (oh the stories I could tell you…) and throwing massive parties in my very own penthouse, which I had received as a sweet sixteen gift. I got most of the rebellion out of my system, and settled down enough to get accepted to Stanford. All in all, my life was pretty chill, considering.

And then the storm hit.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N : Longer chapter what what! Now shit is getting real for our fearless heroine! As always, read and review please!**_

It begins with a sharp pain in my chest, right over my heart. A short, piercing feeling as if someone had sliced my skin open. It grows more and more unbearable, and I am certain my skin is peeling away from my bones. I thrash about, clawing at the floor in agony. An inhuman howling rips from my throat. In the distance I can hear a dry, mirthless chuckle. "The more you fight against it the more agonizing it will be…"

I attempt to scream out a line of various obscenities but am cut off by the most painful blow yet. I shriek. Then, a tingling replaced the pain, as if blood were returning to a limb that had fallen asleep. I close my eyes against the sensation.

Then the light.

A blinding, brilliant blue light permeates the room, engulfing it and myself in a tidal wave. It seems to expand and contract, tiny electric fingers darting out to touch the space, to find me. The light grows denser as it contracted around me. Darker and darker until it wrapped around me like a blanket, sinking into my every pore. Engulfing me.

All of a sudden, the ice cold fear and panic that had taken me vanished. I feel completely at ease. Safe. Unafraid. Calm and a little loopy as if someone had slipped me a vicodin tablet. I look about me. Everything I see is tinged with the same shade of blue as the light. My strange capture looms above me, all sharp edges and angles. He holds himself with a dignified sort of grace, his eyes guarded and calculating. He is terrifying. But also….beautiful. Regal, like a king. Of course. Of course. I couldn't see now why I had been so afraid of him. This man is to be trusted. I smile up at him. His eyes narrow at me briefly before a look of comprehension passes over his face. He kneels down to me, his thumb brushing away the trickle of blood on my lip from where I'd been struck. He smiles, and it seems sharp. Dangerous. But it warms me all the same. He stands and extends a hand towards me, helping me to my feet. A wave of dizziness and exhaustion hits me and I stumble. He reached out to steady me, placing a cold hand on my shoulder.

"Come", He instructed quietly.

He leads me through the building to the roof, where a large, gleaming cargo plane sits waiting. The ramp is lowered down and he struts into the plane, beckoning for me to follow suit. A handful of other people occupy the hold, and as I enter they regard me curiously. My companion immediately begin giving out orders, and their attention leaves me. Except for one. A short, muscular man jerks his head in my direction. "Hey Boss! New recruit?" he asked brusquely. The other man turns to look over his shoulder at me, smirking. "Bit of a happy accident. Tell me Barton, did you know Stark had a daughter? The man, Barton, states that he did not. "Huh. She could be useful, Boss. She's bound to know something."

"I should hope so, for her sake. Now be so kind as to…enlighten our new friend would you?" He walks toward the front of the plane, disappearing into the cabin. Barton takes me by the arm and turns me toward a row of seats secured against the wall. "We'll be taking off soon. Better sit down or risk a limb. Or two. " I buckled myself into a seat and he secures himself into one beside me. A rumbling shakes the floor as the engines kick on.

"Name's Clint!" He yells above the din. "Or you can call me Barton. Pick one, don't really care."

"Lily!" I yell back.

"Right, so kid, how much use are you in a lab?"

"Depends on what kind of lab, but generally pretty ace." Being humble has never been my strong suit. Family trait I suppose. Just like dad. Dad. The though slips out of my mind as fast as it slipped in. Something tugs at the back of my mind, a memory, but I am unable to think about anything beyond right here and now. I snap back.

"The physics kind." Barton explains. "Fusion reactors, particles, all that spacey shit."

I nod. "Yeah, I know a bit." I say with confidence.

"Good, you'll be Doctor Selvig's assistant." The plane jolts as it lifts off the ground, throwing my head back against the cushioned seat.

"Assistant? Doing what?" I ask. Barton smiles knowingly. "You'll see." I try to ask more, but he isn't very forthcoming, and the steady whorl and chug of the plane eventually lure me into sleep.


End file.
